


Alone in this Wilderness

by NekoIzumi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Deaton is a turd, Derek Hale Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Is Alive, Healing, Hermit Stiles Stilinski, I don't like that man, I think I made Derek a hipster?, Light Angst, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Not Beta Read, Not really canon either, Tundra is mine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 04:10:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14072628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoIzumi/pseuds/NekoIzumi
Summary: “There’s going to be bad weather.” Stiles murmured softly where he sat looking out into forest and the dark clouds looming on the horizon. “Bad, bad weather indeed.” He looked down, stroking the large wolf over the head lovingly, earning a lazy tail wag in return. “Winter is coming…”When Derek returns to Beacon Hills to pick up threads long overlooked and ignored, he learns that the one person he actually returned for has been gone for years. But Derek is stubborn and if anyone is going to find the missing Stilinski, its going to be him.





	Alone in this Wilderness

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer; I don’t own Teen Wolf, I don’t want to. Neither do I profit from writing this fic.  
> I do **NOT** give permission for anyone to put my works on Goodreads or any such similar place. Thank you.

“There’s going to be bad weather.” Stiles murmured softly where he sat looking out into forest and the dark clouds looming on the horizon. “Bad, bad weather indeed.” He looked down, stroking the large wolf over the head lovingly, earning a lazy tail wag in return. “Winter is coming… so let’s go inside and make some tea. That sounds like a good idea, don’t you agree, Tundra?” He smiled when the wolf yawned, looking at him with curious yellow eyes. “Yeah, tea…” he mumbled, heaving himself up from the chair to go back inside the warm cottage, followed closely by his four-legged companion. He knew from experience that ominous clouds like those out there meant snow and come morning the entire valley would probably be nothing but white with thin old evergreens piercing the thick cover.

 

Working in silence he put more wood on the fire in the cast iron wood burner, lit two old oil lamps and put on a large kettle to boil. It would take a while but by the time it was ready he'd have enough hot water for tea and for rice.

 

Still silent he looked around while waiting. His cottage wasn’t big by any standards really but it was bigger than most up here in this destitute landscape. He had built it all on his own, shedding sweat, blood and tears to cut down trees, prepare logs and put it all together. To cover gaps with mud and clay, to insulate the floor the best he could and put in what he needed to live. He had two small windows, double glazed ones that he had saved from the scrapheap in the city and they saved him a lot of energy and wood during winter. He had cursed his entire way to the cottage from the runway, or the meadow where the little airplane landed at least, when he got the stove but it served him well, especially during winter when survival depended on staying warm.

 

He had an entire shelf over the surprisingly large bed, _full_ of books, and he treasured his collection. He couldn’t always afford them when he went to the city for supplies but when he did he always got one. The ones he had had been carefully picked and reread many times over, carefully handled to avoid stains and completely without dog eared pages.

 

Besides tools and other necessary utilities, he didn’t have much, a drastic difference from 10 years back when he'd enjoyed everything modern technology could offer, from Wi-Fi to games to information only a touch away. Did he miss it? On occasion yes, and it had taken him a long time to get used to the silence. Now he couldn’t live without the quiet and the bustling noise of the city no longer excited him.

 

Stiles blinked, caught up down memory lane from what might as well be a different life, when Tundra pressed a cold nose to his hand. The water was finally boiling. Pouring some over his homemade forest blend Stiles poured rice in the rest and put the pot on the stove top to continue boiling. Later, when it was almost done he threw in some dried mushrooms, herbs and half a can of spam. The other half he gave to Tundra, the wolf happily gulping the meat down in a few greedy mouthfuls. He'd get some kibble and proper meat later.

Canned goods thankfully had a long shelf life and he had spent every single dollar he'd earned on nothing but cans of veggies, fruit and spam. Thankfully trapping had been plentiful so far this year and he earned a lot from the beavers he provided the city with but you never knew when your luck turned. Still, he'd have to catch bigger game soon, hopefully a moose or a caribou, unless he wanted to live on fish and grouse. Or squirrel.

He eyed the wolf while he ate, one munching on rice, and the other on kibble in his bowl.

_‘Yeah, I’ll go trapping tomorrow.’_ he thought calmly, looking out the window at the dark forest. _‘Snow or not.’_

 

-

 

Derek Hale had changed a lot since he left Beacon Hills. He smiled more, he had come out of his shell… he had allowed himself to _heal_. Granted, there had been hours and hours of therapy involved but it had been worth it. He'd _needed_ every single hour. But he was better now and he felt strong enough to go back to where it all began and visit those he had left behind… and one person in particular.

He never would’ve admitted it even to himself before but there had always been something between him and Stiles and he looked forward to seeing if that chemistry was still there. And just _maybe,_ if Stiles wasn’t already involved with someone he'd let himself hope for something more. The possibilities were endless!

 

He felt himself smiling as he passed the familiar sign, taking equally familiar streets until he came to a stop outside a homely house. He grinned when Scott came around the corner to check who it was, carrying a happy little boy on a strong arm.

“Derek?” he blinked. Then beamed, putting the child down to rush up to the other wolf and give him a bone crushing hug. “Derek Hale! It’s been so long, how are you?”

“I’m fine, Scott.” Derek laughed, returning the hug wholeheartedly. “I see you’ve got a pup now, congratulations!”

“Yeah, this is Noah.” Scott beamed, fishing up the toddler who had come up hiding behind daddy’s leg. “He’s 3, and my oldest, Kouta, is 5. He’s doing a grocery run with mommy, isn’t he, Noah?”

The tot nodded seriously, watching the older wolf behind a plush ducky.

“That’s awesome, I'm happy for you.”

“Where are you staying, man? Call them and cancel the room, you’re staying with us.” the Alpha grinned, turning back towards the house completely expecting Derek to follow. Which he did of course.

“Eh, I haven’t fixed anything yet.” the Beta replied sheepishly. “I literally just rolled into town and figured I’d stop by and see if you had time to see me.”

“Well, then that’s fixed! You're staying in our guestroom, don’t worry about Kira, she’ll be stoked to have you!” Scott babbled while rounding the corned to the backyard where there were plenty of toys scattered about on the lush lawn. “It’s awesome that you showed up today, man, we’re having our big annual barbeque this evening and _everybody_ will be there!”

“That’s really generous, Scott. Thank you.” Having been shown to his room and why wasn’t he surprised to hear that Melissa had moved into the Stilinski house, Derek ran down to move the car and to grab his bag. On a second thought he let the McCall know he needed to go out and get some things and then rushed out hoping he'd find what he needed. He had completely forgotten about gifts for his hosts!

 

-

 

It felt fantastic to see everybody again after so long. The obvious couples were still together, like Scott and Kira and Isaac and Allison, but there were new liaisons made as well. Melissa finding love in John Stilinski was hardly surprising but seeing Lydia, heavily pregnant with Jordan Parrish sure came as a surprise to Derek. She looked happy though, glowing with joy like he'd never seen her before. Erica and Boyd already had a little boy of 7 years old, Jonah, and he was an energetic little thing, tearing around the yard with Scott's two children. The fact that Jonah was human, Noah was a fox and Kouta a wolf didn’t hinder their play in the slightest. Derek wasn’t surprised at all. Rather he was happy for them all and he wished them all the best. Neither was he surprised to see that Jackson had finally gotten over himself, and his no-homo, and finally given in to whatever chemistry had bubbled underneath the surface with Danny. Danny of course wasn’t smug about it. At all.

“So… when is Stiles going to show up? Is he late from work or something?”

 

It was as if a cold wind swept over all of them and the joyous atmosphere evaporated in a heartbeat. Slightly confused Derek looked around, worried when he saw John having lost all colour. “Where is Stiles?”

“We don’t know.” Scott murmured lowly. Even the children felt the tension, seeking comfort with their parents. “He’s been missing for a while now.”

“Awhile? How long is awhile?” Derek asked, suddenly scared of the answer. “Scott?”

“About 10 years.” Lydia sighed softly, stroking a tress of red hair behind her ear.

“We’ve looked everywhere.” Danny shrugged, but it was obvious he was uncomfortable with having failed his friends. “I’ve kept tabs on his social security number, his name, his license, his _library card,_ for years but nothing.” He swallowed hard. “Either he went completely off the grid or he-”

“He’s _not_ dead!” John suddenly exploded. He was white as a sheet when he met the others sad gazes. “My son is _not_ dead.” he whispered, tears forming in his eyes. “He’s still out there somewhere, I _know_ he is.”

“What happened?” Derek croaked, terrified of being too late. Again. No, not Stiles. Please, don’t let him lose Stiles before he's even had a chance to tell him how he felt!

“Long story.” Scott murmured. “It happened like, only a couple of years or so after you had gone. Stiles was learning magic to get stronger and he practiced a lot. Deaton wouldn’t really teach him anything so he started learning on his own, you know how he is… but it kind of came at a high price. He got _really_ strong and uhm… kind of lost control.”

“He burned his candle from both ends.” Lydia shrugged. “Which hardly helped when we fought a coven that had less than benign intentions. It all kind of derailed and he-… well…” She glanced at the silent Stilinski. So did everybody else. They weren’t entirely sure what had gone down actually. John had never said what _actually_ happened that night when Stiles disappeared off the face of earth.

“Can someone just tell me what happened to Stiles?” Derek pressed out, feeling fear nip at him, giving him the overwhelming urge to run, an all too familiar feeling. He didn’t particularly like feeling it again, sitting deep in his gut.

 

“He just lost it.” John murmured lowly, having lost all interest in his beer. Instead he picked at the paper label, not meeting anybody’s gaze while speaking. “The coven we met, they were strong and they wanted Stiles and the power he'd give them.” His voice sharpened to something dark and dangerous. “They used foul play to get him too.”

“They used you?”

“They targeted all of us.” Scott mumbled. “They picked us off, one at a time.”

“Even though we fought back with everything we had, prepared ourselves and defended our homes they kidnapped _us_ to lure out _Stiles_ **.** ” Lydia said softly, “They didn’t really harm us but-…”

“Except me.” John sighed. The burns on his arms where magical fetters had held him ached whenever it rained. “Once he finally came for us they put extra pressure on him to _convince him_ … through me. It didn’t quite work.”

“You never actually told any of us what happened that day, dear. We still don’t know?” Melissa asked unsurely. “All we know is Stiles got everybody out?”

“Not the coven.” Jackson muttered. “They left in body bags.”

“Or small boxes.” Boyd piped up. He shuddered at the memory.

“Stiles… did that?” Derek shouldn’t find it hard to believe, he _knew_ Stiles and he knew there had always been something that drove the younger man constantly forward. “What-… I don’t understand?”

“They wanted him for a reason.” The Sheriff shrugged. “And like I said, it backfired pretty spectacularly.”

 

“He killed everyone there.” Isaac murmured, his voice low and serious. “When we got out of the cells they'd held us in he was already gone though.”

“I called him a monster.” John finally cracked. “The magic overwhelmed him I think? He was so deep in it and he-… lost control of it. So when I saw he'd snapped back to reality… it just slipped out. He looked at me like I had gutted him.” This was it, the burden he had carried ever since that horrible night. He still remembered it like it had only been yesterday. He still had nightmares about it and if only he could take those words back! If only…

The badly hidden wince from Derek didn’t help ease the guilt in the slightest.

“Then he ran out and I haven’t seen him since. 10 years… I haven’t seen my son in 10 long years. He did it to _protect_ me and I repaid him by calling him-… that.”

“And you haven’t been able to track him?”

The Alpha shook his head. “We’ve asked our allies and Danny has some sort of software up that’s constantly looking for him?”

“If he uses any information we already know about him, _anything_ , it'll start pinging.” the Mahealani confirmed. “So far everything’s abandoned.”

 

“And so far, nothing has come up?”

“Not even old emails.” Danny shrugged. “There’s literally no digital trace.”

“It’s not like we don’t want him back.” Isaac said softly. “We really _do_ want him to come home, we just can’t _find_ him… if he's still out there.”

“He _is_.” This time Scott was the one who sounded certain. A glance in John's direction and he suspected the man truly wasn’t sure anymore. In the face of it all it had been so long of nothing to show for their efforts. “I know Stiles is out there, _alive._ ” he added, ignoring the discreet glances from his Betas.

 

But while they dropped the subject, for now, and went back to the meat and the drinks after that, the tension never really left them. Stiles’ ghost was an almost tangible presence amongst them. And before he went to bed that night, Derek put out some feelers, just in case. He doubted he'd have more luck than the McCall-pack had had but while they had a hacker to keep an eye out, Derek had something they didn’t. He had a massive network and who knew, maybe they'd come up with something the others had missed?

 

-

 

Winter hadn’t just arrived, it had kicked down the door and claimed your favourite chair. Not like Stiles could do much about it but while he was always prepared for long rough winters he was a bit worried about the access to meat. He wasn’t able to store however much he wanted which meant he had to go trapping even during summer season, discreetly as it was off season and illegal then. Already after the first snow he'd had to go up to shovel his roof just to make sure it didn’t get too heavy and caved in on him. And the temperature _had_ dropped a lot… and suddenly too.

 

With his breaths coming out in large puffs of white Stiles trudged through the snow, clearing a path through the last layer of white that had fallen, to the outhouse where he kept fuel, kerosene and other necessities he didn’t want to store in the cottage. He had 5 jerricans with gasoline in there, and another 5 large cans of kerosene, but if this winter turned out the way he suspected it would he wasn’t entirely sure it would be enough. He wasn’t entirely sure he had firewood either which is why he was going out now, to fell a tree and store extra just in case. Granted, it wasn’t ideal to do this now that everything was covered in snow and wet but he'd rather have damp extra logs should he need them than no logs at all.

 

But even though the winters were harsh Stiles enjoyed them. Everything slowed down, slumbered underneath the frozen surface. Everything was covered in the purest white, just waiting for spring to come. Sure, there were times when he missed the warmth of NorCal but those moments never lasted long. Not these days.

Whiskey brown eyes glanced towards the door when he suddenly heard Tundra growl lowly in warning. Raising an eyebrow Stiles looked out of the shed to see what had sparked the wolf’s protective instincts… and blinked at the bear not 5 meters away.

“You should be in your den at this time of year.” Stiles murmured, eyeing the large animal calmly. “Go to sleep… and if you as much as think about raiding my cottage for a late season snack, you’ll regret it dearly.”

 

As if knowing the wolf and his odd bipedal companion meant bad news the bear snuffled and then disappeared with a grunt back into the forest.

“Tundra.”

The wolf immediately shot after the bear, barking loudly to keep him running. That bear wouldn’t come back this way anytime soon.

 

With a sigh Stiles returned to what he was doing, grabbing the axe, the chainsaw, what few traps he hadn’t already set up out, rope, and on a second thought, a jerrican of gasoline. Might as well top off the snowmobile before he set out.

Tundra came back when he was all but done, a smug expression on the furry features.

“You bit him, didn’t you?” Stiles muttered but snorted when the wolf merely yawned in response. A definite yes there then.  Definitely no more visits from that particular bear. Stiles wasn’t complaining. The last bear that had decided to help himself to Stiles’ pantry now made a warm and comfortable bottom mattress in Stiles’ bunk. The pelt was huge, thick and lush and kept the cold away during the long lonely nights, and there were many of those in a year.

 

-

 

The ride out to check on his traps was long but worth it. Thankfully it wasn’t windy else he'd have to leave them for tomorrow and he probably would’ve lost the three beavers he had managed to catch. He set the traps, prepared the new ones and went to check on the carcass he had left for a small pack of wolves a good distance away from his closest trap. What little was left of it was picked clean which told him he wasn’t the only one worried about meat for the winter.

 

Stiles closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, held it… and then slowly let it out letting dark eyelashes flutter open to look up at the sky. The sun had set an hour or so ago but it was still fairly light out, mostly due to all the snow glittering around him. The sky above him crackled with static… as one of the most amazing northern lights he'd ever seen fluttered above him. He could admit to himself these days that he regretted so many things but out here nothing of that mattered, he couldn’t hurt anyone out here, least of all his loved ones. They were safer without him there and wasn’t it ironic that he of all people did what he had snorted at in another’s reasoning many years before? Above him billions of stars twinkled at him, reminding him just how small and insignificant he really was in the grand scheme of things. Stiles Stilinski didn’t matter but then again, neither did anybody else really. In a hundred years he wouldn’t be here, quite possibly sooner than that… and that was probably for the best as well.

 

He blinked back to reality when the low whimpering of Tundra drew him out of his dark thoughts. The wolf looked at him with worry in the deep yellow eyes, clearly getting a sense of what Stiles was feeling. He whimpered, coming closer to offer what little comfort he could, earning himself a deep sigh and a gloved hand stroking fondly over his head and shoulders.

“What do you say, dude? How about we go back home and get something warm to drink, hm? The wood can wait until tomorrow.” Stiles said softly. Getting a lick to his hand in response he nodded, started the snow mobile and turned towards the cabin. The wolves would manage somehow, there had been bad years before and yet they were still around. They'd manage again, with or without whatever he left out for them. Though as he rode back the distant howls felt like thank yous for the small gesture he'd done. That was comforting too.

 

-

 

Derek checked his messages while sipping chai latte at his favourite café on the corner from his flat. So far all his leads had come up empty, no one had seen or heard anything of or about Stiles. No one had any clues of his whereabouts. Stiles truly had managed to disappear off the face of earth. Which meant Derek wasn’t looking in the right places. Slightly frustrated he sent out another email, sent more texts, made more calls to ask, just in case, if anyone had seen anything that could send him in the right direction. Nothing. No one had seen anything, no Emissaries, no witches, no pale brunettes with moles dotting their skin. Could he really-…?

No. Derek resolutely pushed that thought away. He refused to accept anything along those lines until he had concrete proof, not a second earlier.

 

Sighing he sipped his latte again, glancing at his phone. It had been weeks, _months_ , since he returned from his visit to Beacon Hills and the calls and texts had gradually stopped. Not entirely mind you, he had a newfound friendship with Scott and they called each other every once in a while, to keep in touch. Neither wolf ever mentioned the fact that Derek was looking for Stiles. Derek knew the McCalls still looked of course, but he suspected that they had simply given up. It _had_ been 10 years after all. It was only natural to give up when you hadn’t gotten anywhere in that long. Derek wasn’t going to give up though, not on Stiles. Not on the one person that had never given up on him.

 

When his phone rang he picked up on the first ring, hoping for news on the missing Stilinski.

“Derek Hale.” he answered, far calmer than he felt.

_‘Derek, its Susan.’_ a warm voice answered him. _‘I was calling to ask if you’ve got any plans the next few weeks or so.’_

“No, not that I know of.” Derek answered slowly, slightly unsure of why the sudden question. “Why do you ask?”

_‘Because I was hoping you would come visit us for a while!’_ the other wolf beamed. _‘We haven’t seen you in years and we were hoping you’d come out and spend some time with us.’_

Derek grimaced, thinking of the journey all the way up to the Cole-pack. While they were friendly and adored the last remaining Hales, well, two of them as far as Derek knew, they were an intense bunch. Sure, Derek had learned how to use his words and yes, he was much more open than he was before but even to this day he found it hard to spend any longer periods of time with them. They were just-… too much in anything but small doses.

“Uhm…”

_‘No uhms, buts, ifs or maybes, Derek Hale!’_ Susan berated him a second later. _‘You’re dragging your butt up here to meet us and spend some time with us out in the wild. It'll do you some good after all that time in the city. You're a wolf, Derek, not a rat.’_

“Yes, ma’am.” the younger wolf muttered, knowing there was no way he'd get out of it when she had put her mind into getting him to come. Especially when he didn’t have a valid reason _not_ to go.

_‘Good.’_ the Alpha sang happily, knowing she had won already. _‘I’ll book you the tickets and pick you up at the airport. **Don’t** miss the flight.’_ she warned, putting just a hint of a growl in the words.

Derek really stood no chance against her.

 

-

 

“Derek, no time no see!”

“Hello, Alpha Sus-”

“Pfft, don’t be ridiculous. Come here and give me a hug, boy! I haven’t seen you in so long! Look how handsome you are, why aren’t you mated with pups yet, child?” Susan steamrolled right over him, throwing all formality out the window. She pulled him into a hard long hug against her round short frame, not trying to hide at all how she rubbed her cheek against his and left her scent on him… though she had to stand on her tippy toes to reach him. It was no secret that she had tried to set him up ever since his last visit up to central Alaska where the Coles lived, and the visit before that. Considering their territory was a large piece of land outside Fairbanks Derek didn’t visit too often, for more reasons than one.

“I just haven’t found the right one yet.” he murmured lowly, blushing slightly at the huff of indignity that earned him from the older wolf. Susan was a force of nature, something she needed to be considering her pack was large and strong, stable and settled. And the only reason they were fairly left alone by Hunters was probably due to the fact that most Hunters knew better than to attack a pack in Alaska of all places. They'd just flee into the wild and wait them out, then return back home when the Hunters had left.

“I don’t mind introducing you to some potential mates while you're here.” the Alpha said with a gleam in her eye that had the Hale breaking out into a cold sweat. “There are plenty of pretty girls, _and_ boys, here that might strike your fancy, darling. Now come on, let’s get moving. It’s a long drive home from the city and we better get on the road so we get home before dark.”

 

Derek let himself be ushered towards the truck, throwing his bag in the back and taking the passenger seat with a silent sigh of gratitude to get out of the snow glop. While he didn’t mind the cold he _was_ a wolf from California after all and no amount of winters in NYC would change that. As they left the city Susan kept talking about how excited the rest of the pack was to have him back again, especially her 16-year-old niece who apparently had _the_ crush of crushes on Derek, and that had turned the house upside down in her mission to look as pretty as possible for their guest. If she noticed him grimacing at the mentioning of the girl’s age she didn’t mention it. While Derek certainly wasn’t roaring out his tragic story at the top of his lungs he wasn’t actively burying it either these days, again thanks to hours and hours of therapy, but it was still more than enough to make him cringe at the mere thought of being in any kind of intimate setting with a minor.

 

But as they rolled down the road out of town he got other things to think about than being involved with minors. Susan drove like a bat out of hell, something that had the Hale stick to the seat with his claws when the truck skidded and fishtailed on the icy roads.

“We’ve prepared quite the feast for you, Derek! We've got meats ready for the grill for when we get back, they brought home a keg of beer, or two. There's food up the walls I tell you!” the Alpha chirped while overtaking another truck like they were out on the great salt plains in Oklahoma. At that point there was stuffing coming out of the seat between Derek's fingers. He actually screwed his eyes shut and said a mental little prayer when she overtook a large semi loaded with timber and returned to her own lane right in time to avoid a semi from the other direction. Both trucks honked furiously at her but either she didn’t hear or she didn’t care.

“Yes, yes, very nice. For the love of- ICE!”

“Ice?” Susan blinked, not noticing the ice at all… even as she skidded over it half sideways. “What ice?”

“Nope, never mind. As you were.” Derek pressed out. “How long until we get to the homestead?” He refused to admit that his voice might have cracked there somewhere on the end when they damn near took air over a crest.

“A couple of hours or so.” Susan replied happily. “You already know that our territory is large and reaches all the way to Fairbanks, dear.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Don’t worry, pumpkin, we’ll be there in no time.”

Yeah, Derek whimpered then.

 

-

 

If you didn’t take the nerve-wracking trip from the city out to the homestead into account, and Derek generously decided not to, this time at least, he actually quite liked the Coles. They weren’t stressed like many of Derek's city slicker-friends, they didn’t care about the latest fashion or must-have gadget, they simply took life day by day. They took care of their land and their cattle, they hunted and ran freely under the moon and they enjoyed the good company of each other and their friends. Granted, the humans in the pack didn’t work as hard as the wolves but why should they do the hardest physical labour when there was someone right there who was stronger? There was no talk about being weak or useless, you simply found other strengths and worked on those instead. They were simple people but nice, they cared for each other immensely and it showed in the way they constantly scented each other by the smallest of touches but that were just as important as the big gestures and nuzzles. It was nice to be around a large pack that was just as close as Derek's own had once been.

 

He laughed with Susan’s husband Rick, laughed with the Betas and the humans, played with the little children and he made damn sure to keep the appropriate distance to Lucy, Susan's niece. So far she wasn’t having any of it and she had tried her very hardest to always sit next to him, be around him when he _wasn’t_ sitting or generally just be underfoot. When one of the older Betas finally called her out on it, laughing out a loud ‘he’s too old for you, sweetheart!’ she had merely sniffed haughtily in the air and said she knew a good man when she saw one and that she was securing her own future. While everybody else had laughed at the very awkward Hale, Derek had been painfully reminded of a certain redhead back in Beacon Hills and how she always got what she wanted. Derek Hale had no intentions whatsoever of getting mated to a much younger girl and end up stuck in bumfuck nowhere Alaska, that’s for sure.

 

Hours later, after bedtime, when Derek had _finally_ gotten his personal space back he sat by the sunken fireplace in the living room enjoying a nice cold beer, straight from a snowdrift outside. He was stuffed with yummy food, he was warm, safe and he had great company.

“So, Derek, we heard you were looking for someone?” Rick asked curiously. “What’s that about?”

“He’s a very close friend from Beacon Hills.” Derek murmured softly. “He went missing a long time ago and I never knew until I went back to visit not long ago. I haven’t exactly stayed in touch after everything that happened.”

Sensing that _that_ was a subject the other would rather leave alone, Rick nodded slowly. “Have you tried ads?”

“His family and loved ones has tried everything, he's still registered as a missing person, even after all these years. His father is the Sheriff down there so he's always keeping an eye out for information and his friends-… let’s just say that the digital side is covered.”

“But they don’t have your network.” the other filled in, earning a nod from the Beta. “Good call.” he murmured.

 

“We’ve asked everybody we know too if they’ve heard anything but so far we've come up empty.” Susan said lowly, understanding in her eyes. It was never easy when someone you cared about went missing and she could feel it, how this hit Derek hard. Whoever this Stiles Stilinski was he was obviously someone very special to Derek.

“Maybe it’s the recluse out in the wilderness?” another Beta, Alfred, tried joking. “Though he's human he's definitely got magic. Been there for _years._ ”

“Who?” Susan asked at the same time as Derek looked up, hopeful. He knew Stiles had magic. “I haven’t heard anything about any recluses out in the wilderness, Al!”

“He comes into Tanana every once in a while.” Al answered unsurely. “He stocks up on supplies and then flies right back out into the bush again. The pilot is a friend of mine and he says the guy lives out in the middle of fucking nowhere with a huge dog. I ran into him once when I visited but that was long ago.”

“Where?” Derek pressed out, his full attention focused on Al, unware of that the intensity made the other Beta rather uncomfortable. That and the glare from his Alpha who didn’t like not knowing about magic people living outside of her territory borders. Even if it was far away from her territory borders.

“I don’t know!” Al very nearly whimpered. “All I know is he came to town to sell beavers and a lynx-fur about two weeks ago! He's a trapper, that’s how he makes money!”

 

Turning his attention from the relieved Beta Derek turned to the Alpha instead.

“Can we go there tomorrow and check it out? Please? I’ll pay you gas money.”

“Don’t insult me, pup!” Susan snarled, her eyes flashing red in anger. But she calmed down immediately and sighed, rolling her eyes. “Yes, we’ll go and check this hermit out. I want to know who he is anyhow what him being up here. I don’t like knowing there’re witches close to me and not knowing what they're up to. Magic people tend to stick closer to big cities down south.”

“Thank you, Alpha Cole. I really mean it, thank you.” Derek croaked, his heart beating hard against his ribs. What if it was Stiles? It wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest if it was. Alaska is _huge_ and it wasn’t hard to live completely off the grid if only you wanted to. It _was_ possible to simply disappear. Somewhere deep down Derek _hoped_ with everything he had that this person, somewhere out there, was Stiles.

He didn’t sleep much that night.

 

-

 

It took them an hour to fly from Fairbanks out to Tanana and once there they rented snowmobiles to get further out. They would’ve flown but unfortunately the little plane Al’s friend used to fly around and deliver supplies had engine problems and he was working desperately on fixing it so he could get back out there himself. Slightly bummed about that Derek had no choice but to get on a skidoo and follow the directions given by the pilot. It would take them hours to get to the place the man used to land and once there the guy had no clue where the recluse took off to. All he knew was the other always had a snowmobile waiting for him somewhere close by so he could transport his supplies and the merchandise he sold off in Tanana. 

 

And it did take them _hours_ , it took them the better part of the day. By the time they finally _found_ the airfield, or the meadow used as one, the sun was already setting and the others had decided it was high time to go back. While the dark wasn’t a problem for the wolves, the cold once the sun set _would_ be. It was cold as it was and it was only going to get colder. But Derek just didn’t want to give up, he needed to make sure, he had to know! Once they were there he ripped off his hat and balaclava and tried to pick up a scent. He knew it was pretty much hopeless there would be any scent left of the man, especially after more than a week but just maybe he could-… Derek nearly fell off the snowmobile in his haste to get closer, to try to pick up that oh so faint whiff he swore he imagined. Ignoring the cold biting at his cheeks and nose, he moved this way and that, like a shark through a scent trail, trying to pinpoint the exact location of the source. And he found it. Just at the edge of the trees he found a shelter just big enough to house a skidoo and a sled… and there he finally picked up that scent, _Stiles_. It was faint, but there.

 

Without thinking he started ripping the heavy clothes off, the jacket, the sweaters under, the ski pants, thermal gear, his underwear… He ignored the loud calls for him to stop, to put it all back _on, dammit!_

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back eventually!” he shouted before he simply shifted and _ran._

Behind him he left a handful of stunned Betas and one speechless Alpha. Susan stared after him, not entirely sure of what to say. After another moment of awkward silence, she huffed and started gathering the Hale’s discarded clothing.

“Maybe we should pair him up with someone after all.” she muttered sourly. “Damn brat could’ve told me he’d mastered the full shift.”

 

-

 

Even if Stiles hadn’t been so in tune with the immediate surrounding around his cottage he would’ve noticed from a single glance at Tundra that someone was outside. The wolf had his ears perked and his entire attention focused on the door, intently listening to whatever was happening out there. Stiles tilted his head a little, feeling for the energy outside his home… frowned when he picked up a distinctly supernatural aura.

Werewolf.

Putting his book aside, one of 3 he had splurged on last time he went to Tanana to sell off the furs and meat he'd caught since the last time he went in, he rose to his feet and opened the door, Tundra right at his side.

Looking out he blinked at the shadow emerging from the trees. The huge black wolf stared right back at him, glowing blue all the more intense against the darkness and heavy breaths of white around him.

“I can’t even begin to imagine how you found me here.” Stiles murmured tiredly. “Come on, I’ll see if I've got anything that'll fit you.” He took a step aside to let the other wolf in, pushing Tundra aside with a gentle knee to his side. Tundra sniffed furiously at the new arrival, obviously wanting to know who this was that had come to their den… and been invited.

 

Derek shifted back the second the door was closed and stepped up to wrap his arms around the younger man tightly. He shamelessly pressed his nose to the pale neck to inhale a scent he hadn’t felt in almost a decade.

“You’ve changed.” he murmured into the soft skin, shivering against the warmth hitting cold skin.

Stiles wasn’t really sure what to do with the sudden embrace and ended up patting the wolf awkwardly on his back. In the end he took a small step back to end the hug. He wasn’t used to touch. Not anymore.

“Obviously so have you.” he replied lowly, turning to find something the other man could wear. He ended up with old worn jeans, an equally old sweater, near threadbare boxers and two pairs of nice warm knitted socks. “Here, put these on. I’ll make you something warm to drink, you must be cold after running out there after sunset.”

“I ran from the airfield.” Derek answered, obediently putting the garments on and finding them to fit him surprisingly well. He had no idea how long it had taken him to find the cottage, how many hours he'd been running for, constantly scenting and backtracking not to get lost. He'd been so focused on his nose and what it picked up that he'd been essentially blind out there, he simply hadn’t cared.

A glance at the Stilinski told him the other sure had filled out since he last saw him. Stiles wasn’t the scrawny kid with the buzz cut anymore, he was tall and strong. A hard life out in the wilderness had made him tough, sinewy in a way a gym never could. His hair was longer, unkempt waves around his collar and it was obvious that he took scissors to it when he thought it got too long and started getting in the way. He never had quite managed to grow a proper beard though, the short one he had was still thin and grew more on his chin than his cheeks. Not that he seemed to care. As far as Derek knew there wasn’t even a mirror in the cabin.

 

Stiles made the brew strong, knowing the herbs would warm the wolf up faster. He ignored the faint grimace from the other when Derek accepted the tin mug, sniffed and cautiously sipped. The roles were reversed it seemed, the man who used to live in an abandoned train depot was suddenly an epicure while the man who had essentially survived on junk food now lived on whatever the forest gave him. The silence while Derek drank was downright awkward, or at least for him it was. Stiles didn’t seem affected at all, he merely returned to the book he obviously had been reading before the other showed up. If anything, it gave Derek a chance to really watch the younger man and the difference was almost unsettling compared to years before. Stiles had _changed._

 

“Stiles, why-”

“You shouldn’t have come here.” Stiles cut him off. His voice was low but completely devoid of emotion. It was as if he was talking about the weather. “Go back to where you came from and don’t come back.”

“Why?” Derek asked just as lowly, completely ignoring the tea… though it did spread a pleasant warmth out from his gut to the very tips of his fingers. “Your dad misses you so much. Scott and the others too, they’ve been looking for you all this time.”

“I'm-… dangerous.” Only then did the younger man turn to meet his imploring gaze. “I'm not safe to be around.”

“Your dad told me what happened, Stiles. He's sorry he ever called you-… _that_. He wants you home.”

“That’s not how I remember it.” came the soft answer. Stiles closed his eyes, remembering it all like yesterday.

 

It was forever burned into his memory, that fateful night when _everything_ had gone to shit and he had left for the safety of everyone he held dear. “The coven was strong, very strong.” he murmured. “They took everybody from me, one at a time or two at a time, letting me know just how far they were willing to go to get me. They wanted my power, wanted to use me like some damn _battery_ … so I gave them what they wanted.” He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, dark lashes fluttering open to stare unseeingly at the wooden floor. “33 witches.” he continued. “Powerful in their own right and more so together and I slaughtered them like nothing. I put everything I had into it, _every single fibre of my being_ I put into tearing their flesh from their bones and I _enjoyed it._ When I heard their screams I enjoyed it even more.” For the first time in years his hands shook when he thought about it, how _close_ he had been to losing so much more that night. “I was crazy with power, had adrenaline up to my eyeballs when I turned to my dad. I was so out of it I didn’t even _recognise_ him, I would’ve killed him too… I would’ve enjoyed it just as much. So he shot me. My own dad had to _shoot_ me in the arm to make me realise who he was.” Sad whiskey brown eyes met concerned hazel green. “He looked at me like he didn’t know me, like I was an abomination, like he was horrified to be related to me. He looked at me and called me a _monster_ … and he was right. I still feel a whisper of that thrill whenever I kill, even now.”

 

“You're not a monster, Stiles.” Derek said, his voice warm but serious. “I've seen monsters, heck, I'm related to one, but you're _not_ it. That I promise you.”

“You have no idea what you're talking about, Derek. You weren’t there, you left.” Stiles replied, rising to his feet to put the book away and to pour himself more tea. “You disappeared and no matter how many times I tried calling or texting you never answered. I didn’t have anyone to turn to.”

“I had to get away from Beacon Hills to heal, Stiles. I just couldn’t stay after everything.” Derek replied lowly. He hadn’t known how he had affected the younger man by leaving, he hadn’t kept his old phone when he left. To start anew he had literally cut everything related to Beacon Hills out of his life. Looking back now… maybe that had been a mistake. “I never would’ve gotten out alive had I stayed.”

 

“I know. I forgave you a long time ago.” Stiles sighed after a long moment of silence.

It was the last reply Derek had been prepared for. He blinked at the Stilinski, slightly confused… and perhaps a little grateful. Stiles shrugged, sitting back down on his side of the simple wooden table. “Being out here leaves a lot of time for thinking.” He offered the other a pale shadow of a smile from the old days. “I've had plenty of time to think, to consider, to ponder and all other synonyms in the book. Not much to occupy you out here besides work and a lot of it is physical labour that lets your mind wander. Tundra, _claws_.”

 

He hadn’t even turned in the wolf’s direction yet somehow, he had known the animal had tried sneaking up on the bed. The wolf looked a little chastised for a moment, glancing between the brunet and the bed but then huffed. In front of stunned hazel green eyes, the wolf’s large paws shifted to soft and sensitive _human hands_ , sharp claws disappearing to leave blunt nails behind. He gracefully jumped up on the large bed, spun around a couple of times on the thick warm blanket and then plonked down with a satisfied sigh, shifted hands hanging off the edge. He yawned once before resting his head down, seemingly drifting off immediately. Apparently, he wasn’t concerned with the guest at all since Stiles had welcomed him into the cottage.

“Werewolf.” Derek pressed out. “He's a werewolf! Why didn’t I feel his presence?”

“Because he's just a wolf.” Stiles shrugged. “There's literally no humanity left in him anymore, someone scrambled his brain pretty damn good before he went feral.”

“But he shifted!”

“That’s just the wolf.” Stiles eyed his companion, something soft in his eyes. It was strange seeing it there for the wolf but for him to be so tightly guarded when he talked about the people he left behind in Beacon Hills. “He remembers some things, not much. He learned quickly that the only way he'd get access to the bed was if he stopped tearing holes in my blankets. One day, completely out of nowhere, he shifted like that and jumped up. When I didn’t throw him off he learned. Doesn’t mean he won’t try getting away without it though.”

“Who is he?”

“Who knows?” Stiles shrugged again. “I've never seen him fully shifted and the wolf doesn’t want the human side back.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I asked.”

 

Again, whiskey brown eyes met stunned hazel green. “I asked the wolf once, years ago, if he wanted the human back, he said no. Humanity comes with a lot of conflicting emotions and pain. The wolf was happier without that to constantly fight with.”

“So our wolves aren’t happy being half human?” Derek wasn’t entirely sure what he thought of that. Was his presence a burden on his wolf? Was his wolf unhappy walking on two legs instead of four? His question earned him a long glance.

“You tell me. Is your wolf unhappy? Only you can know that. And Tundra clearly went through a lot of trauma before he became a simple wolf. Bringing humanity back into his world and body would probably cause more harm than not.”

 

There wasn’t much Derek could say to that but it did leave him thinking, feeling for his wolf under the surface. Back then he definitely wouldn’t have minded going feral like Tundra had and spent the rest of his life like a wolf but now… now he was happy whichever skin he walked in.

“You could bring his human side back even though he lost it?” he asked instead of dwelling deeper into that wormhole. “You can do that?”

“I told you, I'm strong.” Stiles sighed. “Which is why I’m not going back, I'm too dangerous.” Deciding that that was more than enough about that particular subject Stiles abruptly changed it for another more pressing one. “I only have one bed so either you share with me or you shift and sleep on the floor. Your choice.”

“I’ll share with you.”

Stiles only nodded and said no more.

 

-

 

Hours later Derek was still awake despite his exhausted body. He was safe and warm, very warm, where he lay next to a sleeping Stiles under the thick covers. It was dark in the cottage, save for the soft glow from the wood burner, where the last log Stiles had put in before they went to bed still burned and crackled.

“Do you want me to make you some herb tea? It'll help you sleep.” a low voice came from the other side of the slender form next to him. Clearly Stiles wasn’t sleeping after all.

“How did you know I was awake?”

“Your thinking echoes in your energy.” came the tired reply as the younger man pulled the covers aside to get up and prepare the tea. Having put more wood on the fire and given Tundra a few affectionate scritches behind the ears, Stiles sank back down on the side of the bed while waiting for the water to boil. On the floor rather than at his feet as usual, lay Tundra, snoring softly in his sleep.

 

It was unsettling to see how calm Stiles was now when he used to be such a whirlwind of energy before, tripping over his limbs as much as his words, if not more. Now he was silent and calm in a way that almost brought flashbacks to a much darker time when he'd been the same… almost. There was a peacefulness to him now that hadn’t been there before though.

“How did you end up out here?” Derek asked softly after a handful of silent minutes. “Did you suddenly decide to move to the Alaskan wilderness?”

“Not really.” Stiles sighed heavily. “I drifted for a while, got lost in the big cities where you can be just as nameless as out here.” He shrugged while moving off the bed to grab two tin mugs off one of the shelves, the only mugs he had. “But with no control over my magic I didn’t feel like the city was a safe place, for anyone, least of all me… so I migrated towards the countryside. One way or another I ended up in Alaska and after a couple of months in Anchorage I moved into the wild. I've never felt as home anywhere else as I've felt here.” He glanced at the silent wolf while preparing the tea and pouring the boiling water over the herb blend. “I drifted again for a while and eventually I wandered away from civilisation. When I found this place I just knew this would be my home so I settled down, built my cabin and the rest is history.”

“And no one noticed the sudden hermit that came into town every now and then?”

“You'd be surprised how easy it is to fly under the radar with the right body language and attitude.” he murmured softly. “Keep your head down, change the way you talk and no one pays you any attention. The sheriff’s department did run a check on me but they never had the right name to run and I had changed my looks pretty much by then. When nothing came up they left me alone, thinking I was just another weirdo who wanted to get his hermit on up in Alaska and that was fine by me.”

“They couldn’t have put any major effort into it if they just gave up like that!”

“They have more important things to do than track down every single bum that come into their precinct and Anchorage is a big city, dude.”

Derek couldn’t help but smile, suddenly feeling like he got a piece of old Stiles back.

“Don’t call me dude.”

The Stilinski only snorted though and handed him one of the mugs. The tea was strong but tasted nicely of pine, peppermint and chamomile. Half an hour after finishing it Derek slept like a baby.

 

-

 

When Derek woke up the next morning he was first confused and disoriented, this wasn’t his room at the Cole-pack’s house. Then he felt Stiles’ scent and everything immediately snapped back into place. Hearing no heartbeat in the cottage Derek sat up straight in bed, looking around worriedly. Wherever Stiles was he hadn’t been gone long though. The logs in the wood burner hadn’t been in long and the tea on the small table was still steaming hot. Hazel green eyes blinked dazedly at the plate set for him. Breakfast consisted of thick slices of spam, boiled potatoes and surprisingly enough, a crab-apple. The meat and potatoes were seasoned extra with herbs and surprisingly it tasted divine and the fruit, while hard, was surprisingly sweet. Just as he finished the core and the last of the apple the door opened and Stiles walked in, accompanied by Tundra. The wolf’s tongue was hanging out and he more or less pranced inside the cottage, clearly having gotten up to some kind of mischief if judging by the sour expression on the Stilinski's features. A dark brow rose.

“What did he do?”

“He took my gloves and ran off with them while I was preparing the snowmobile.” Stiles muttered sourly, casting a dry glance in the gleeful animal’s direction. “He _knows_ I need them and always use them so he decided he was in a playful mood today and took them while I checked the engine. Anyhow, I have to go out and check my traps, I should be back before nightfall.”

“I want to come with you!”

“With me?” Stiles parroted, a frown forming on his brow. “I'm only going out to check my traps.”

“I want to come with!” Derek was suddenly scared he'd never see the other again. He knew it was an irrational fear, ridiculous even, this was Stiles’ home after all… but he couldn’t help the surge of fear shooting through him, filling him with adrenaline and the urge to run. “Show me your world, Stiles, show me how you’ve lived the last 10 years.” he pressed out, ignoring the worried glances between him and Stiles from the wolf. Tundra eyed them warily, clearly sensing the Hale’s fear and worry, but unsure of why that was when there was no threat.

 

Stiles looked at him, obviously confused, but after a minute of silence he finally nodded his agreement.

“Alright, that’s okay, I guess. Do you want me to find you gear or are you running in your wolf skin?” He said it so casually it actually stunned the other. Derek had conveniently forgotten that Stiles had known for years that Derek had mastered the full shift long before he showed up on Stiles’ doorstep. It was-… refreshing, and comforting. The full shift was a rare phenomenon even amongst the Born ones and it certainly wasn’t something Derek bragged about.

“Do you have extra gear?”

“Yeah, I do. Put it on and get ready, daylights a wasting.”

Derek nodded and gratefully accepted the garments, surprised when the obviously cherished fur-poncho fit him perfectly. Stiles probably wore it with extra layers underneath. Clearly, some things never change. Clothed and done he followed the other outside into the cold.

 

-

 

Derek went out with Stiles every day the following six days, helped him with setting traps, with preparing more firewood and watched him prepare their every meal while Tundra lay sleeping at his feet. The conversation flowed easily but they enjoyed the silence together just as much. Derek took to reading Stiles’ books in bed, after he had finished his tea, and he always made sure to be careful with them, knowing the books were dear to the younger man. He got along well enough with Tundra, the wolf getting into bouts of playful moods but otherwise remaining a calm alert shadow by Stiles.

 

He would forever remember the time when they had been out in the middle of nowhere and Stiles suddenly stopped the snowmobile and sat there silently, with his eyes closed and the thick beanie in gloved hands.

“Listen.” he had murmured softly, his breath a white cloud around him. “Can you hear it?”

Derek had sat there, desperately trying to pick up on what the other meant but failing spectacularly. He only heard their heartbeats, the howl of the wind and the crunch of snow and ice beneath them.

“Hear what?” he'd asked unsurely.

Stiles had smiled at him then, a warm smile that stunned him… as he moved closer to place surprisingly warm hands over the wolf’s ears. Whiskey brown eyes has glittered when he answered.

“The forests and mountains are singing.” he’d smiled softly, closing his eyes again. “ _Listen._ ”

 

Stunned by the sudden proximity, Derek at first hadn’t been able to hear anything besides the rush of blood in warm hands, but then he'd closed his eyes too, focusing… and heard it _through_ Stiles. Music. So faint it was barely there yet so strong and powerful he felt the tunes in his very bones. When hazel green eyes had snapped open to meet warm whiskey brown, and when had he grabbed Stiles’ wrists to hold on to, he'd seen the joy and pride in the Stilinski that Derek heard. It was a feeling like none he'd ever felt before. When Stiles moved away Derek had stopped him, bringing him back closer on instinct. They had sat there for a handful of minutes, Stiles cradling Derek's head gently in his hands, and Derek holding on while listening to a hymn he was sure very few out there had ever heard and ever would hear. Then Stiles had moved away, murmuring they had to get going. Derek knew he had been shown something very special that day and he treasured the gift and memory.

 

Then the snowstorm hit and they'd been more or less snowed in for four days. The cabin was a sturdy structure, built to withstand any kind of weather but Stiles still went out the second the snowfall as much as hinted at easing up a bit to shovel as much as he could off the roof. Feeling ungrateful for not being able to help with anything Derek had gone out to at least bring in more firewood in case they needed it. Stiles had a rather impressive supply of cut up logs and wasn’t going to run out anytime soon but Derek still went out to bring some in so Stiles wouldn’t have to. With nothing much to do while the storm raged outside, Stiles had decided to prepare a bath and hadn’t that been a new experience for the Hale. He had watched with almost morbid curiosity how the younger man hauled a large metal tub out from what he assumed was the pantry, filled it with snow and placed it on the wood burner. As the snow melted he put the tub on the floor, grabbed a bucket and added more snow until there was a fair amount of water in the tub and the little wood burner was almost red-hot with how he put logs in it. Once the water was to his satisfaction he had fished out a bar of soap from out of nowhere, gotten undressed as unbothered by his nudity as Derek ever had been, and gotten in. The tub wasn’t anywhere near big enough for him to stretch out in but that hadn’t stopped Stiles from enjoying it all the same. He had lain there and just relaxed for a good 10 minutes before he finally got to washing himself properly. To say that the water was filthy would be quite the understatement but without running water there’s not much you can do. Once clean and fresh like a daisy he'd gone through the whole procedure again… and handed the soap to Derek. He hadn’t been able to resist, spoiled by modern luxuries as he was these days. He had decidedly ignored the low chuckle from the other man and he stretched out much like Stiles had done, with his legs halfway out of the tub, and groaned in pleasure as warm water dissolved dirt and grime and sweat from his skin.

Tundra hadn’t been impressed with the bath at all.

 

-

 

“I want you to stay in the cottage today, Derek.” Stiles murmured, pulling his gear on and getting ready to head out.

Having just been about to take his clothes off and get into his wolf’s skin, Derek frowned, halfway out of the warm sweaters already. It had been surprisingly comforting and refreshing to run alongside Tundra while Stiles rode the skidoo when they were out.

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“I didn’t plan for a long-term guest.” Stiles mumbled, making sure he had his knife and everything else he might need in his small backpack. “I'm running out of meat.” He gave the Hale an unsettled glance. “I need to go hunting. The traps haven’t given anything worthy of sharing.”

Remembering what Stiles had said about sticking to trapping to bring home meat, Derek didn’t need enhanced senses to feel the other’s unease. Hunting meant he'd have to kill himself rather than rely on mechanics and luck to bring home game.

“I'm coming with you, Stiles. I want to be there if something happens.”

 

The laughter that earned him was ugly and cracked and Stiles wouldn’t even look at him. His body was tense and he reeked of anxiety.

“If something happens being with me is the last place you’ll want to be.” he answered lowly. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have any firearms out here. All killing I have to do I do with magic… which is why I'm a trapper and not a hunter.”

“I don’t care.” Derek was as certain as he'd ever be of anything. “I'm coming with you so either you accept it and bring me along or I’ll just follow you. One or the other, Stiles.”

He could see Stiles wanted to say something, to argue… but after a few moments of stubborn glaring at each other the Stilinski finally caved with a shrug.

“I'm leaving in two minutes.” he said and went back outside, closely followed by his wolf companion.

Needless to say, Derek hurried to put his gear on.

 

They didn’t take the snowmobile this time, rather Stiles put a harness on Tundra and strapped him to a sled. The wolf was clearly used to it and almost started dancing when he saw the harness, eager to start pulling. Derek would have mentioned something at the clear distaste in using a werewolf like a damn sled dog but one glance from Stiles was enough to keep his mouth shut and Tundra was so excited about it that it was obvious he liked it and found it fun. Then Stiles got on behind him and Tundra started pulling and off they went into the great wilderness. Derek lost all grasp on how long they were going, or where they were, but both Stiles and Tundra seemed to know exactly whey were heading. He felt oddly vulnerable and safe at the same time.

After what could have been hours and hours they finally stopped, the wolf panting from the exertion of pulling a sled with a human and a 200-pound werewolf. He still seemed excited though.

“We’ll have to walk from here.” Stiles murmured lowly as he released Tundra from the harness and threw it in the just vacated sled. “I feel the energy of reindeer not far from here in that direction.”

 

They plodded through the deep untouched snow, through the trees to the edge of a swamp now deep frozen. Only then did both human and wolf stop to sink down and watch out over the penurious landscape, their breaths clouds of white puffing out with every deep exhale. Neither man said anything, both knowing that even the smallest of noise was enough to alarm the herd not far from them.

 

While the other two watched the animals, obviously focusing their entire attention on which prey to choose, Derek chose to watch Stiles. He was still tense but there was a determination in him now, almost resigned in a way, as he dealt with the fact that he had no choice. He must’ve faced this particular situation a lot over the last 10 years and suddenly Derek felt heavier because of it. He didn’t like Stiles having to go through hardships like this on his own. Then, so fast blink and you miss it, Stiles struck. Derek wasn’t entirely sure _what_ he had seen to begin with, it might have been a shimmer in the air, he honestly wasn’t sure, and the herd scampered with loud screeches. Behind them one remained, still and lifeless in the pure white snow. There were no wounds, no blood anywhere, the animal had simply collapsed when life left it.

 

Tundra bound up to their prey, his whole body vibrating with excitement and restless energy as he nipped at a hoof trying to help drag the reindeer closer to Stiles. It wasn’t a large animal, Stiles hadn’t gone for the biggest buck in the herd, but rather aimed for a smaller, weaker, last year’s calf. It wouldn’t have made it through the winter anyhow. Yet he sank down, his hands barely trembling, as he gently caressed the coarse fur murmuring low words of gratitude for the sacrifice given. He took a few minutes to calm himself down, reeling whatever he had used back in, then rose to hit feet and hauled their game up over his shoulder as if it didn’t weigh much at all.

“Alright, we’re done.” He rasped. “Back to the sled.”

Derek wasn’t entirely sure what to say so he merely nodded and followed in silence.

 

Back at the sled Stiles strapped the caribou in properly, told Derek to sit where there was space for him and off they were. But not for long. Derek almost went flying when the sled suddenly got caught and they all came to an abrupt stop, Stiles crashing into the handle and Tundra whimpering when the harness nearly choked him.

“What just happened?” Derek pressed out, lying halfway on the caribou and halfway hanging off the sled.

“Tree branch sticking out of the snow.” Stiles cursed, having come around to check what they'd gotten caught on. While nothing was broken, thankfully, one of the runners sure wasn’t as straight as it had been 30 seconds prior. Ignoring that problem for now he instead went up to Tundra, checking him over to make sure he wasn’t hurt. It didn’t matter that the wolf was a were and still had his healing abilities, Stiles still wanted to make sure and the careful touches were comforting to the both of them.

 

At least until they heard Derek growl deep in his throat and startled them both.

“What the hell is _that_!?”

Both turned in the direction he was pointing prepared to face whatever danger he'd suddenly discovered. Stiles blinked comically for a second, then sighed heavily, getting to his feet.

“Stiles, don’t move! It might be dangerous!” Derek snarled, crouched in front of the Stilinski and prepared to defend.

“Don’t be rude, Derek.” Stiles murmured, walking up to the sled and hauling up the caribou in his arms. He shot the wary wolf a calm glance while walking up to the creature that was still staring at them with huge round orange eyes. “It’s a troll.” the Stilinski said softly. “He’s the Guardian of the forest, he protects it and he really doesn’t show himself that often so you’ve been shown a great honour today. Even with all my years here I've only ever seen him a handful of times.” Carefully he kneeled with the reindeer in front of the troll, saying something in a language Derek didn’t understand but instinctively knew was ancient and out of this world. How and where Stiles had learned it to begin with was beyond him really.

 

Having finished his respectful greeting, the younger man rose to his feet and took a few steps back before turning around back towards the sled where Tundra waited. “Come on, it'll get dark soon and we should really get back to the cottage before that happens.”

“What about the-… uh…” Derek asked unsurely, glancing towards the troll that was still staring at him with that owlish unblinking gaze, even as a huge hand came out of nowhere and slowly so slowly picked the offering up and put it in a huge mouth with surprisingly round teeth. There was no sound when he closed it again and if he chewed Derek couldn’t hear it. Rather unsettled by the whole event Derek offered the creature a curt nod and hurried up to where Stiles was still waiting for him. “Why did you give him the deer? We went out specifically to hunt?”

Stiles shrugged, holding on when Tundra immediately started pulling as soon as Derek was seated. “When you meet a Guardian you offer something as a gift for having been shown the honour of them revealing themselves to you.” he replied lowly, leaning into the corner as they slid through the landscape after the pulling wolf. “I didn’t have anything else and being hungry was probably the reason he showed himself to begin with. I can always eat spam and canned stuff until I fell the next one.”

After a few minutes of silence Derek spoke up to reply.

“I'm sorry I'm causing you trouble.” he said loud enough to be heard over the wind and the crunch of snow beneath him. “I know you weren’t exactly prepared for another mouth to feed.”

“You're not causing me trouble, Derek.” came the chuckled reply. “If you had I would’ve told you.”

With that being said there was nothing more to add to the subject.

 

-

 

Much later that night, after a delicious dinner of salmon and rice with canned peas, Derek couldn’t help asking something that had been on his mind for quite some time now. And maybe because he was full and safe and warm, Stiles didn’t mind answering.

“How long have you had Tundra with you?”

They both glanced at the wolf who lay on the bed sleeping with his paws comically in the air. Anything to get on the comfy bed. Both men chuckled at the loud snoring coming from somewhere deep within the creature.

“He came around my cabin about 6 months or so after I came here. He had tried getting accepted into the wolf pack that’s in the area but they wouldn’t have him and chased him away. Too much wolf, not nearly enough human for one place, too human and not enough wolf for the other.”

“And you accepted him?”

“Not at first, no. I was still learning this place, fixing the cabin as I went along, still learning how and where to trap. I was essentially still only surviving, I had other things to think about.” Stiles sighed sipping his tea. Derek did the same, having grown quite fond of the different blends he'd gotten to try so far. He still craved a chai latte badly every now and then, but it was getting better… especially after Stiles had discovered his sweet tooth and wordlessly put a jar of honey in front of him along with the tea. Derek was ridiculously grateful. “I think his wolf wanted and didn’t want to come to me at the same time. Whatever he'd been through it was bad enough for him to go completely feral, for him to trust another human being again is nothing short of a miracle.”

“And yet he came to you.”

“He kept his distance at first, naturally wary of me, and I certainly kept my distance. I knew from a single glance at him that he was a were and I wanted no more problems with those. I’d had enough as it were.”

“In Beacon Hills?” It wasn’t a question as much a statement really. It earned him a quick glance though.

“Yeah.” Stiles sipped his tea again, letting the flavours roll on his tongue before swallowing. “Autumn was turning into winter though and lone wolves don’t survive up here, were or not. I think he knew his only chance was me. So he snuck around the cabin, coming closer and closer but never right up to me. I noticed him getting weaker and gave him some of the meat from one of my traps. The rest is history really.”

“You're his anchor.”

“I guess I am.”

 

Derek took a deep breath, suddenly nervous. Fear ran down his spine like cold water. “Am _I_ your anchor, Stiles?”

Stiles looked at him like he'd slapped him, completely caught off guard.

“What?” he croaked, tea completely forgotten in his hand.

“Am I _your_ anchor?” Derek asked softly, keeping a keen eye and ear out for any signs of distress. He swallowed hard. “We were so close back before I left and you and Scott weren’t really talking much after the Nogitsune and stuff. It always felt as if I helped you more than he did during the whole debacle, that you turned to me more than him… so I wonder, am I your anchor?”

“I don’t know.” came the low answer. “You weren’t there when I needed one.”

“And I'm sorry I abandoned you that way, Stiles.” Derek drew another deep breath. “But I'm here now and I want to help you. I _want_ to be your anchor… just like you’ve been mine.”

 

The look in whiskey brown eyes was almost confused when Stiles looked at him then and it was only then that it occurred to Derek… Stiles had never known. “Before you I had _anger_ , I had all this _rage_ bottled up inside me, it’s what kept me alive, kept me going. Then I met you and things changed.” Derek confessed softly. “No more anger, only acceptance… and the will to get better and move on.”

“That’s great, that I was that to you,” Stiles managed to press out a few silent minutes later. “But I don’t know if I want an anchor or if I even need one anymore. I hadn’t used magic in years before today and I didn’t feel like I was losing myself. I've had it under control for a long time now so whatever you're offering might be way too little too late.”

“Do you want to try?”

“No, I don’t.” Stiles answered curtly. “I sense energies and stay out of trouble that way, I have no need to go shoot sparks everywhere. Before I might’ve found it exciting and fun but not anymore, that time passed a long time ago, it passed when I felt disgusted with myself for nearly killing my own father in cold blood.” He graced the wolf with a devastatingly frigid look. “Don’t press it, Derek.”

There wasn’t really much Derek could do about it but to accept the fact that Stiles simply didn’t want to try if Derek was his anchor or not. And he didn’t want to force him either because best case scenario, Stiles would never trust him and feel safe with him again… worst case scenario, he'd shatter. Derek didn’t want to risk either of those.

“I won’t, Stiles.” he murmured softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

The Stilinski nodded then… but remained silent for the rest of the evening and when they went to bed, he made sure to keep his back to the wolf and not touch him either. Derek suffered through that night without a wink of sleep.

 

-

 

Derek lost count of how many days went by out in the wilderness, how many nights he spent lying next to Stiles, precious Stiles, who he had loved for so long but hadn’t realised it until a shrink opened his eyes to the truth. Sad really. Some days when Stiles went out to check his traps Derek chose not to follow, instead choosing to stay in the cottage to do the dishes and chop wood or help with other small chores that needed done. He had nearly fallen flat on his face one night when he went out to take a piss and damn near stepped on a very large dead moose placed right outside the cabin. There had been no sounds whatsoever of anything being out there or how it got there but Stiles had taken one look at it and smiled softly, saying it was the troll that returned the favour. You give something to a Guardian and the Guardian will give something back. The gift had been excellent fresh meat that meant Stiles didn’t have to go hunting again anytime soon and Derek felt more than saw the relief make strong shoulders relax. They'd gone out to retrieve the traps after having taken care of the meat, hide and antlers, there was no point in them being out there when they had everything they needed. And Tundra had been downright ecstatic about the large piece of red meat, still bloody, that he'd gotten for dinner that day. Clearly, wolves could get food comas too.

 

Yet there was a tension there that Derek wasn’t entirely sure how to overcome. He sat in silence, watching how skilled hands whittled away at a piece of bone to make a beautiful handle for a knife. Stiles looked serene where he sat, a content little smile on the striking features as he worked. It was as if he had simply shut out the topics he didn’t want to approach, topics like magic and anchors. And yet Derek ached to find out more. He ached to _touch_ , to get closer, to learn Stiles in ways he'd never seen him before. His _hands_ wanted to _learn_ him, map him and remember all the places that made him sigh in content, made him moan and writhe and yearn for more. If Stiles sensed Derek's internal struggle through his energies he never mentioned it. He went on as always, waking up early to tend to his homestead, to do chores and get by out in the middle of the nowhere wilderness. Tundra might have his playful moods where he didn’t mind roughhousing with Derek for a while while he was shifted and the two wolves could play, but he never strayed far from Stiles, always keeping a guarding eye on the fragile human.

 

Sleeping next to the brunet turned into its own kind of suffering for Derek. He was so close he could feel Stiles’ body heat, he was constantly surrounded by his scent, covered in it from wearing his clothes and living in his cabin, blending his own scent in with the other’s just by being there and living there. It was pure _torture_.

Derek eyed the silhouette of the younger man as they lay in bed, Stiles sleeping soundly in front of him, facing the other way. He had changed so much, gotten so much stronger and yet…

 

Without thinking too much about what he was doing, Derek slowly let his arm slide around the Stilinski's middle… and pulled him closer. Nuzzling the surprisingly soft hair in the other’s nape he inhaled Stiles’ scent and just breathed. Stiles was warm and pliant in his heavy slumber, he didn’t as much as stir from having been moved. Down on the floor Tundra eyed him though and from a single glance Derek knew the wolf knew _something_ had changed. He didn’t do anything, just watched the wolf in human skin for a moment or two, then settled back down. Derek drew a deep breath and allowed himself to return to slumber. He never saw whiskey brown eyes stare emptily at nothing.

 

-

When the worst of the snowstorms hit, it raged outside the cabin for over a week. Just to make sure Derek didn’t lose his way through the storm on his way to the outhouse Stiles put up a rope between the two buildings. With no visibility, no scent and no noise to go on, holding on to that rope was the only way of safely getting there and back and Derek was grateful. Even Tundra wasn’t keen on going outside but he had to just as much as the other inhabitants of the cottage. Granted, they had prepared as best they could for the arriving storm, they'd made sure they had all the fuel, kerosene, food and firewood they needed close at hand but even then, it was unsettling for the Hale to sit there idly while listening to the howls of the wind outside. The fact that the storm decided to rage upon them right during the full moon hardly helped. He felt caged in, anxious in his own skin, unable to run free through the trees… until Tundra joined him on the bed, snuggling in close to share body heat and proximity. They were _pack_ and the wolf inside Derek soothed, not having realised the bonds sooner. Seeing the two shifted wolves laze on the bed, clearly enjoying the warmth of the hearth as much as each other, Stiles grabbed the book he was currently reading and decided to join them. He wasn’t bothered by the storm at all, having lived through quite a few of them over the years he'd lived out in the wilderness, but he could certainly understand how it could be daunting to Derek who was more used to the city than the rough country these days. Though he didn’t hide the tiny smile when both wolves gratefully snuggled up on both his sides and fell into a safe slumber with him there to watch over them.

 

-

 

Once the storm had passed it left behind a whole new reborn world. All tracks were gone, leaving pristine snow and glittering crystals of ice. Evergreens looked like painted pictures with loads of heavy white weighting down the branches and the air smelled and tasted crisp of cold and snow. On a trip out to check on traps to see if Stiles had gotten any furs he could sell, they saw a massive herd of caribou, easily in the thousands, they saw white snowshoe hares watching them warily as they passed on the sled and ptarmigans fleeing when Tundra happily yipped at them. Derek wished he'd had a camera with him to capture this untamed land in all its beauty on film, this _life_ that he had only thought existed in Alaskan documentaries and movies. He certainly knew better now.

 

Stiles watched him and listened to him fondly when they returned to the cottage, he watched how Derek positively _bubbled_ with excitement at all the things they'd seen and how his senses _sang_ out here and how had he never thought to come up here before? Stiles tried pointing out that Derek had gotten used to his luxuries, to never being cold anymore, to have access to high-end restaurants and operas and shops and the bustling of the city for white noise but Derek wouldn’t really listen, too busy to steamroll right over him and wasn’t that a surprise?

“Years ago you would’ve given an arm to make me shut up and I would’ve given one to hear you babble.” he chuckled, stirring in the large pot on the burner. Bunny stew for dinner, served with rice and canned veg. It was going to be epic. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“Years ago I was still bleeding from so many emotional and psychological wounds that I was terrified of opening up and getting more hurt.” Derek replied softly, his hands idly scratching behind a blissed-out Tundra’s ears. The wolf’s tongue was lolling out but he little cared. “I'm still amazed how a loudmouthed obnoxious teenager who constantly reeked of spunk and fast-food managed to get through my defences and make me trust him.”

“I did not reek of spunk!”

Derek merely raised an eyebrow in reply… earning an endearing blush from the Stilinski who continued stirring the pot with renewed vigour.

“I did _not_ reek of spunk thank you very much, and besides… I banged my head bloody against your stubborn self-sacrificial bullshit just as many times as you threatened me with bodily harm… if not more.”

“You threatened to run me over with your jeep!”

“ _You_ threatened to rip my throat out with your teeth!”

“I didn’t actually do that though, you got hurt plenty enough on your own without my involvement.” Derek snorted.

“Why do you think I started practicing magic?”

 

Derek blinked when Stiles suddenly stepped away from the cooking to look out the window instead. Outside it was dark and the window reflected his own tired face back at him rather than giving him a view of the trees and the snow. Stiles frowned a bit at his own reflection, he hadn’t really known how much he'd _changed_ over the years. Somewhere at the back of his mind he registered that he needed to cut his hair again, it was getting too long.

“Scott told me you started learning because Deaton wouldn’t really teach you much.” Derek replied unsurely. “You wanted to get stronger.”

“Deaton wouldn’t teach me diddly-fucking-squat!” Stiles snapped. He sighed a moment later, rubbing his eyes to calm down when he noticed Tundra’s worried glances. He didn’t like what his reflection in the window had just shown him. It brought back memories he'd rather leave forgotten. “Fucking arrogant holier-than-thou piece of shit druid didn’t think I was worth his time. Alan Deaton _resents_ all other magic than his own, and when I didn’t have what it took to become a druid like him, he didn’t want me to learn at all… so I had to find other mentors.” Heaving yet another deep sigh he returned to stirring the pot, not wanting to burn dinner just because he was dredging up grudges from the past. He was grateful that Derek didn’t defend the vet though, not that he had any reason to. Derek had never really trusted the man, he had merely relied on him in times of need because _he'd had no other choice._ Had there been any other options, Stiles doubted Derek would’ve sought out Alan Deaton at all.

 

“So that’s what I did, I found other people willing to teach me. I'm obviously not druid-material so I figured my spark was meant for something else, right?”

“Who did you find?”

“I found Eleonora, an old witch up in Redding. She looked like anybody’s grandma but she was a mean old thing when she put her back into it, I tell you. I would go up to her most days after school and rather than have me do fucking breathing exercises and meditate to ‘find my inner tree-baby’ or some other shit, she had me focusing on energies, starting with a fucking candle.”

“Candle?”

“She lit a candle and told me to hold my hand up to the flame, not so close that I got burnt but close enough for me to feel the heat from the flame.” Stiles glanced at the curious wolf, noting that the mention of fire didn’t seem to make Derek as anxious as it once would have. He had indeed started healing… and Stiles was happy for him. “She told me to focus on what I felt, heat from an open fire is one form of energy, one I could feel and focus on. It was a good start. Same with water on my skin, or soil between my fingers. She didn’t have me stare myself stupid at some rock for hours at a time trying to figure out when it was born.” He rolled his eyes, remembering Deaton's mind-numbingly boring lessons and how he hadn’t understood squat from any of it. “Eleanora realised within minutes what I had known from the get-go and what Deaton refused to admit, I was no damn druid.”

“So she had you touching things?” Derek asked curiously, getting to his feet to help set the table, much to Tundra’s dismay.

“That’s what it boils down to, yeah.” Stiles offered a soft smile, remembering the old lady. “I guess she knew when it was her time to pass on but before she did she sent me to a friend of hers, and that’s when my training really began. Osgar took over where Eleanora had started and he had absolutely no fucks whatsoever to give, at least not for anything other than his budgies. If I wanted to learn I better do it at his pace so I hit the ground running. The man was _mad old-school_ but damn if he didn’t know how to catch up on lost time.” He chuckled, serving both of them generous portions of stew that smelled delicious to all noses, human and were alike. “He gave me tomes on herbs and told me to pick out what I thought sounded the most interesting, the ones I picked he wanted me to learn as much about as possible, to identify them, tell what they were used for, why, by whom and how. He wanted me to be able to pick them out in a bundle with other almost identical herbs. Almost. Once I knew them, he told me to pick out new ones. Rinse and repeat. He continued with teaching me how to feel energies, how to pick up on one in a room full of people, he brought out his own bestiary and let me more or less memorise it. And that was only within the first year.”

 

Derek nodded while eating, listening intently as he did so. A lot of it reminded him of his own training when he was a child, how his family had taught young wolves to control their senses, not to accidentally shift when they sneezed or got caught off guard in public.

“You got stronger.”

“Yeah…” Something in Stiles’ eyes dimmed. “I got stronger.” he mumbled, putting his cutlery down to gaze out the dark window. He felt all the energies out there, the ground beneath them, the stillness of the frozen creek not far away, the trees around his humble home that were as familiar to him as his own hands. They slumbered now of course but he could still feel them dreaming of spring, new shoots, squirrels running up and down their trunks and birds building nests in their branches. He'd felt energies that day too, felt the pack disappear off his radar one after the other, locked away where he couldn’t feel them anymore… luring him out. He'd lost it completely when he'd felt his dad’s signature get snuffed out completely, leaving him alone, confused… and so _angry_.

 

“What happened?” Derek urged softly. “Tell me what happened that day.”

Sighing Stiles picked his fork up to peck at his meal, shuffling grains of rice and pieces of soft boiled potato around on his plate.

“Fast forward another year and the coven came to Beacon Hills from-… _somewhere_ I guess. I don’t know if they'd heard of me or if they felt me or if they found me some other way but they came and they wanted me to join them. They said my power was a waste on a bunch of slobbering half-human monsters and you can imagine how well _that_ went down with me.”

Derek grimaced, knowing perfectly well how protective Stiles always had been of his near and dear ones.

“They persisted but when they refused to take my no for an answer I turned to Osgar, if anyone could tell me how to get my point across it was my mentor.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing. They'd killed him before coming after me.” Stiles still remembered how lost he'd felt that day, how _wrong_ Osgar’s house had felt before he even stepped through the door and found the remains. There hadn’t been anything he could do for the old man, or his budgies, he'd been too late before he even knew it.

Stiles drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “They figured they'd _make_ me join them if they went after my dad and the pack and in a way their plan worked. They lured me out to where they kept everybody, different seals and stuff keeping Scott and the others from shifting and they had strung dad up in chains with runes, causing him pain. When I saw that I-… I just _lost_ it.” Stiles glanced up to look the Hale in the face but saw no scorn in the hazel green eyes, only understanding. “They wanted me to give them power and that’s what I did.” he continued lowly. “Oh _boy_ , did I give them power.” Something dark crept into his voice, something that reminded Derek of long ago, but he resolutely pushed the thought away. Out of all people out there, Stiles had all the right in the world to be angry for what they'd done to him. “They protected their magic circles, their runes, their spells, but conveniently forgot that they'd come for my _spark_ … and that I’d been learning magic before they arrived. I wasn’t the clueless kid I’d been back when the Alphas attacked, I knew what I was doing.”

“What did you do?” Derek held his breath waiting for the answer.

The smirk his question earned him was bone-dry… and positively filthy.

 

“I applied physics to magic.” came the simple answer, delivered with a detached shrug. “I had studied energies under Osgar for two years and it was the one thing they didn’t think of protecting. I found them by their energies, connected myself and-…” Stiles sighed.

“And?” Derek asked with bated breath, on the edge of his seat from a lot more than just curiosity.

Suddenly so tired of it all Stiles stabbed a piece of potato and shoved it in his mouth. “ _’Energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed from one form to another._ ’” he quoted calmly, looking the wolf in the eye almost as if daring him to oppose him. “Albert Einstein said that. So that’s what I did, I took their energies, their _life energies_ , and changed them from what they were into something else. I made them explode like water balloons, like 4th or July fireworks, like 200 fucking rubber bands around a watermelon. They never saw it coming and they _deserved_ it for what they'd done to my dad.”

“I'm not disagreeing with you, Stiles.” Derek murmured softly. “I wouldn’t have hesitated either, not for as much as a second.” Gently he put his hand on a pale tightly fisted one on the table. “But something went wrong, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, something went wrong alright.” Stiles damn near growled. “Something, _everything_ , went to shit is what went wrong.” He inhaled to continue his rant… it was as if all air left him when he looked into warm hazel green eyes, watching him with fondness and something Stiles wasn’t entirely sure he could name anymore. He sighed yet again and finally gave up on his meal, pushing the plate away. An absentminded hand ran through too long brown tresses. “Osgar had never really let me do anything on a large scale, he had focused my training on _details_ and _structures_ and the very finest _nuances_ of the magic I was doing. It’s like comparing a bludgeon to a stiletto, both do damage but in very different ways. When I learned under Osgar I had never really felt the residue, or after effect if you will, from the magic because what I’d used had always been very concentrated, I had never needed to use a lot to get the result I was after. That day… I opened the floodgates and latched onto every single threatening signature I could find and the bleed-through overwhelmed me which lead to more magic to more feedback to my senses… I was so high on magic that I had no idea what I was doing. And what was worse, the raw _power_ that I felt, it felt _good_. I _liked_ having all of it, I _liked_ knowing I was fucking _invincible_ for once, more than just the useless token human. It took my dad squeezing the trigger for me to snap out of it long enough to get out of there and once I had fled, I still felt it. It took me hours, _days_ to get over the crash when I finally hit rock bottom.”

“And you haven’t used magic since?”

“Only the very barest minimum, for small things. I didn’t dare use more in case I got hooked again without anybody there to get me down safely.”

“I wish I had been there.” Derek murmured lowly. “I might have been able to help you somehow.”

Stiles actually snorted at that. “As awesome as you are, dude, had you been there you probably would’ve made things _worse_. I would’ve had to worry about your ridiculous self-sacrificing tendencies on top of all the other shit I had to deal with.”

“I will have you know that I've gotten a lot better in that aspect. And don’t call me dude.”

But when whiskey brown met hazel green they both smiled at each other. And when they went to bed not long after, they both slept peacefully too.

 

-

 

Although things changed after that, they didn’t change much. Stiles still got up early in the morning, much too early for Derek's taste, to go out and get his day started. By the time Derek had gotten up, dressed and sipped his first cup of whatever blend he'd chosen for the day, Stiles had been up and about for at least an hour or two. To Derek, who had always been a morning person _before_ getting a proper very comfortable bed with high-thread count sheets and luxurious comforters, it was like the world had turned on its axis. He remembered the teen who groaned himself out of bed and lumbered down the stairs to get a big glass of milk before grabbing breakfast. Or who ditched breakfast altogether so he could get those 30 minutes of extra sleep. Well, Stiles wasn’t growing anymore and they do say you need less sleep the older you get. Somehow Derek doubted that applied to the Stilinski though, Stiles had learnt to get up early because that’s what a life out in the wilderness demanded. Even during the snowstorm he'd gotten up early, if only to stoke the fire, make breakfast and then spend the rest of the day reading.

 

But one thing that _had_ changed was their chemistry. It had gone from distant friendly to something more resembling what they'd had before. Stiles was more open now, he smiled more, he got just a tad bit more physical, putting a hand on Derek's shoulder if he passed behind him, bump him with a hip to get him to move a step aside rather than patiently wait or plain tell him to get out of the way. His touch raised goose bumps on Derek's skin whenever he felt the naked warmth of the other against him. Derek revelled in it.

 

But it was at night that things really had shifted. Stiles came to Derek on his own, shyly moving closer to feel the wolf’s body heat, to breathe in his smell as slumber claimed him. Derek always welcomed him, always pulled him in, closer, to wrap Stiles in his scent and be wrapped up in Stiles’ in return. The thick duvet cocooned them during night and Derek yearned for sundown so they could return to that safety and nearness.

 

The first time Derek kissed Stiles he hadn’t even really planned on doing anything. They'd gone to bed but remained awake, talking softly about all kinds of things, about the past, about the future, about wolves and mountains and magic and family and-… Derek had moved without thinking. He'd watched the surely soft lips form words without really hearing what they were saying and he had thought to himself, ‘what did they taste like?’. In reality those wonderful lips had been more on the chapped side, a bit dry but just as heavenly regardless. They'd tasted of Stiles’ homemade toothpaste and just a hint of the pine tea he'd had before bed. He hadn’t realised what he'd done until his brain finally registered how Stiles had turned stiff as a board.

 

Derek pulled away immediately, mentally cursing himself for not having better self-control. At the back of his mind the part of him that was wolf wanted him to move right back in again and take more, _give more_.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry! I wasn’t thinking and I just leaned in on autopilot and I’m so sorry!”  

Whiskey brown eyes watched him, a tiny frown gracing the beautiful features.

“I… I didn’t hate it.” Stiles mumbled unsurely. “I've kissed before, I liked it, I just don’t-…” He sighed, suddenly frustrated. “I just don’t know if I can give you more.” Stiles murmured. “It’s been _so_ long since I was last touched and I've never-….” He tried again. “I've never had-… I've never been-…”

“It’s okay, Stiles.” Derek couldn’t help the fond smile. “I’ll wait until you're ready and if you decide you’ll never _be_ ready for more, then that’s fine too. I’m happy with kissing, as long as I get to be close to you. Can I touch your skin, are you alright with that?”

“…yeah.” came the low answer. “I am.” But there was a tiny smile there when they moved back into another sweet kiss. It had been a long time coming. Down on the floor Tundra rolled his eyes and moved closer to the fireplace. Humans were so complicated.

 

-

 

By the time Derek finally started seeing signs of spring, something Stiles had seen for weeks, he had absolutely no clue whatsoever of how long he'd stayed out in the wilderness. Months and months obviously, but he had no idea if it was March or if it was May. He'd never counted the days to begin with, why bother?

He sat outside the cottage, enjoying the bright sunshine, listening to the _drip drip drop_ of water from everywhere around him, snow and ice melting fast now that the worst cold of winter was over. The cup in his hand was half empty but he knew he had more inside. He simply enjoyed himself, breathing in heavily the scents of life slowly returning to the frozen landscape. Stiles and Tundra had been out since early morning, Derek had no idea why but he was sure it was necessary and important. Stiles didn’t really do anything that wasn’t necessary or important, it was a hard life he lead but he didn’t seem to miss the luxuries of civilisation at all. Derek had asked him once and Stiles had taken a long time to think about it before answering. In the end he had replied with a soft ‘ _I miss libraries’_. Stiles always had loved books and knowledge so it was hardly surprising he missed the access to information. Curiously enough he hadn’t said a word about missing the internet.

 

As he sat there, Derek kept an ear out, listening to the sound of Tundra’s yips and the crunch and crackle under Stiles’ heavy boots… only he didn’t hear anything. There was complete silence, not even the birds chirped. The _heaviness_ of the quiet around him chased chills down his spine and before he knew it he was up and running, the tea cup long forgotten behind him in the snow. Desperate to hear _anything_ he kept on running, this way and that, trying to pick up the sound of the wolf and Stiles but nearly choking on the sound of silence pressing at him. Knowing his wolf had keener senses he stripped, shifted and ran, opting to find a scent trail if his ears failed him but there was nothing to follow. The trees, which should smell of moss and bark and damp, didn’t smell of anything at all, the crisp scent of the snow under his paws wasn’t there. It terrified him and it freaked his wolf out, a creature naturally more connected to nature.

As he stopped to sniff, to scent, to pick up a trace, he howled, long and loud, knowing that Tundra definitely would pick up on the noise, on the sound of a packmate calling. There was no reply.

_‘The river, didn’t he say he was going to the river?’_ Derek thought despairingly, turning in that direction… only he couldn’t find it. He didn’t know if he was even running in the right direction because the trees all looked the same, he couldn’t find a landmark and the ridges of mountains around him blended together.

 

Derek didn’t realise he was on the verge of hyperventilating until he collapsed in the snow, exhausted from running for how long he had no idea. He'd tried backtracking, to find his way back to the cabin but even that hadn’t worked and his own paws hadn’t left any tracks in the snow. He was lost, utterly lost, out in the middle of nowhere Alaska.

 

A sound to his right had him snapping towards it, hoping it was Stiles or Tundra, who had found him… instead glowing blue eyes widened when they fell upon a form quite different than expected. It was a troll… but it wasn’t the same as the one he'd seen before. The difference was subtle… but it was there.

Derek couldn’t help it when the creature moved towards him with a hand reaching out, soundless over snow that should creak and gnarl under what he could only assume was massive weight. He raised his hackles and growled lowly, black ears flat against his head. The troll hesitated then, big round owlish eyes looking at him slightly puzzled. If Derek hadn’t been petrified, the fate of the caribou Stiles had hunted down at the very forefront of his mind, he'd probably find it funny, the way the troll tilted its head a bit to the side, clearly trying to figure out how to proceed. It took another step closer, earned another warning growl, fangs shown in a clear warning display, and stopped. Instead it opened that giant maw… and started singing.

 

Confused over what he was hearing, and why the fear unexpectedly ran off him like water, Derek couldn’t but blink as the Guardian slowly came up to him and oh so gently picked him up like he weighted nothing. A giant surprisingly warm hand patted him awkwardly as the troll turned around, holding him close and safe. What happened next Derek wouldn’t have been able to describe properly if he'd even tried. The world moved in a blur around them, rushing by so fast his eyes watered and his nose stung from the cold air… yet moving so slowly he could see individual pine needles glittering with ice on the trees as they flew by. He didn’t know how long they travelled, it couldn’t have been long or it could’ve been hours, he wasn’t sure, it was certainly far if judging by the distance though. They came to a slow halt and the Guardian oh so gently put him down. The scent of _Stiles_ and _pack_ and _home_ hit him immediately and all of a sudden Derek knew exactly where he was. He rushed forward to go home, nearly stumbling off his safe perch in his haste to meet Stiles and Tundra, when the thought hit him and he stopped mid-leap. Stiles’ voice in his head saying _‘When you meet a Guardian you offer something as a gift for having been shown the honour of them revealing themselves to you’._

 

He turned around, eyeing the troll, who stood there eyeing him right back silently. He had nothing to offer.

Swallowing hard he pitty-patted back… stroking his head against a strong hand gently before offering a quick lick of gratitude. When the troll slowly leaned down to touch its forehead to his, Derek met it willingly. He felt gratitude, and perhaps an understanding for being different, and somehow, he _knew_ this ancient creature could feel the connection too. As he moved through the trees towards the cottage, having offered another cheeky lick, he heard the Guardian rumble words after him. He didn’t understand them, and he had forgotten them long before he reached the cabin, too excited to be back home. Behind him the troll smiled just a hint… and then vanished to where it had come from.

 

-

 

Stiles and Tundra boomed out of the cottage before he'd even made the glade, the two of them nearly falling out through the door in their rush to get to him. The wolf beat the human to him but only because four legs are faster than two. Stiles was a close second though, crashing right into Derek's space only a second after he'd shifted back to his human form. They held each other hard, hands stroking over skin where they found it while Tundra rubbed and jumped up against them both, whining all the while.

“Where have you been!?” Stiles pressed out, trying to get his scent over the other as much as Derek tried rubbing his off on Stiles. “We've been looking everywhere! Tundra found your clothes _15 miles_ away from here, where have you _been!?_ ”

“I got lost.” Derek mumbled into a gloriously warm nape. “I was sitting outside listening to the sounds of the forest and of you and then there were no sounds. I tried finding you but there was no scent to follow so I just ran and ran and ran…”

“I was so worried.” Stiles murmured, suddenly pulling away, more or less hauling the Hale with him back to the cabin and the warmth inside. “We've been out all day looking for you and I kept on feeling for your energy signature, for any trace at all, but there wasn’t anything.”

 

Derek blinked at the gear on the table and floor. Tundra’s harness, food, warm clothes, firewood, batteries, flashlights, ice picks, head lamps… Stiles had clearly been preparing to go out and keep on looking.

“Were you about to go out in the dark?” Derek choked out, even as he was unceremoniously pushed towards the bed and in under the thick covers. Stiles gave him a look that was bone-dry underneath the residual worry.

“Of course I was, stupid.” he muttered, putting more logs in the wood burner. He knew he had a hot-water bottle somewhere and he was going to find it while he boiled water for tea, soup _and_ the damn thing. “Wolf or not, the wilderness is dangerous and especially so at night. Spring might be right around the corner but it still gets fucking cold during the nights and if Tundra wasn’t welcome into the shelter of the local wolf pack then neither would you. I would’ve looked until I found you.”

“Stiles, stop fiddling with the damn kettle and get over here already.”

“You need to get warmed up, Hale.”

“I know. Isn’t sharing body heat the fastest way?”

Stiles turned to face the other, tilting his head a little to the side when Derek just looked at him, lifting a corner of the thick cover. Tundra had already made himself comfortable behind him, offering his packmate what warmth he could. When he lifted his head to look at him and Stiles found himself facing two sets of glowing eyes he couldn’t help the snort. Shaking his head on a deep sigh he kicked his boots off, let his own clothes fall to the floor and accepted the invitation. They spent the rest of the night holding each other tightly, rubbing their scent into the other’s skin, touching, feeling, bonding. Neither slept much but that was okay, they had each other and they were safe.

 

-

 

Derek knocked on the doorjamb next to the door calmly, listening to the noise from inside the house. He smiled widely when Melissa came running past in the hallway with a large bowl of salad, doing an abrupt 90 degree turn when she saw him.

“Derek!” she greeted him happily, smiling when he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “This week has been crazy I tell you! When stuff happens, everything happens all at once, right?”

“Isn’t that the norm?” Derek mused, holding up a bag containing a little gift.

“How awesome that you could come! We weren’t sure if you'd show up this year or not.” Melissa grinned, peeking into the bag he held out, her hands still full. “Ooh, we like gifts.”

“Of course I wanted to come!” Derek offered a little smile. “Though I brought someone with me, I hope you won’t mind?” They both turned to the figure hesitantly getting out of the car.

 

The noise from the house abruptly stopped when the bowl fell to the floor and shattered. When they came running to see what had happened they saw Melissa stand there staring, her trembling hands to her face and tears running down her cheeks.

“Stiles…” she whispered.

John turned towards the driveway like he'd been slapped, blue eyes widened at the sight of his only son standing there, very obviously unsure of his welcome.

 

On the next breath he rushed down the stairs towards him, wrapping him in his arms tightly and holding on for dear life. Stiles was stiff as a board in his hold, strong arms hanging at his sides in shock.

“I'm sorry.” A broken mumble by his ear is what broke John completely. “I'm sorry I hurt-”

“No!” John suddenly held his son at armlength’s distance, his hands surely leaving marks on pale skin underneath the soft fabric of Stiles’ shirt, but he didn’t care. “ _I’m the one who should apologise!_ ” he cried, tears streaming down his face openly. “ _I'm_ the one who did wrong _by you_ , Stiles, and _I’m so sorry_!” He pulled the younger man close again, holding him as hard as he could, terrified that this was all a dream, that his son hadn’t finally come home again. “I hurt you so much and if I could take all of it back I would!”

“I almost killed you.” came the low whisper, Stiles’ voice breaking at the end. “You defended yourself.”

“What I did went beyond mere defence, Stiles.” John croaked. “I shouldn’t have called you what I did, I should’ve tried to help you, to ease you down, _anything_ but what I did. I'm so sorry, Stiles, I’m so sorry.”

The older man’s body shook with his cries as strong arms slowly, hesitantly, rose to hold him back… and held him hard.

“I'm sorry too.” Stiles sobbed. “…I've missed you, dad.”

 

Up on the porch Melissa cried openly, leaning against Derek who held her awkwardly. Next to them stood the rest of the pack, all in tears, while the little ones weren’t entirely sure of what was going on. Scott swallowed hard, walking down the stairs and up to the pair, still holding each other tightly.

“About time you came home, Stiles.” he pressed out, his voice rough from holding back the overwhelming flood of emotions. “We've missed you so much!”

“Yes, and he's not leaving anytime soon!” John pressed out a teary-eyed smile, taking a step back to let the two could hug each other properly. “Derek, I can’t-… how-… _where_ did you even _find_ him!?”

“Alaska.” came the amused answer. “Out in the middle of nowhere-Alaska.” Derek grinned. “Pure strike of luck really.”

The rest of the pack, having come down to greet their last missing member properly, blinked at him, earning a shrug in return. Derek wasn’t going to tell them more than that, he knew Stiles didn’t want them to know too much and he was fine with that.

“Well, since my salad bowl has gone to crap, I need to make more.” Melissa smiled sweetly, still hugging her wayward ‘son’ hard. “I bet you're hungry, dear. Come in, come in, there's so much we have to tell you!”

“And there’re so many questions we want answers to!” Lydia piped up, stubbornly refusing any tears to ruin her makeup. “So get your ass inside, grab a plate and start talking.”

Stiles gave Derek an insecure look as he was herded inside the house but Derek merely shook his head, smiling. He'd brought Stiles home, home where he belonged.

 

A loud whine had him stopping though, turning to the car. Tundra looked devastated where he sat, his snout pressed out through the crack in the open window.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get him.”

“Derek…” Scott asked unsurely, watching the animal warily. “That’s a wolf.”

“True that.” Derek answered calmly, opening the door to let his packmate out. For while both of them might, in some way, belong to Scott's pack… more than anything, Derek, Stiles and Tundra were their own little pack, just the three of them.

 

Sure enough, Tundra gracefully leaped out of the car and immediately went up to Stiles, cautious around all these unfamiliar wolves. Especially since he'd nearly been left behind with the Coles up in Alaska. After _weeks_ of talking about it, then not talking much at all, just working and enjoying spring arriving and all that needed doing with the new season, then some more talking, Stiles had eventually accepted that he needed to get back down to the lower 48 to get, and give, some closure. What was the worst that could happen, right?

So he had prepared his cabin to be left empty for however long, stowed away everything, packed what he wanted to bring and boarded up windows… before sealing all of it away magically. He had no interest in having bears visiting, or anyone else for that matter, and Derek knew Stiles would want to return eventually. If not permanently then at least for vacations or to just get away. 10 years away from everything you knew changed a man and Stiles was no exception.

 

So they had hitched a ride back to Tanana and taken another flight from there, eventually making their way back to Derek's friends where the Hale got a major bollocking for having disappeared off the face of earth for _months_ without them being able to find him again, as much as they had tried. Alpha Susan had demanded answers of course, she wanted to know who this mysterious guy was, this hermit Stiles… who turned out to be an Emissary of all things. _Derek's_ Emissary. Stiles hadn’t really been very forthcoming with answers beyond that… and then she had seen Tundra. And somehow she had known who he was. When it was time for the two men to leave she had demanded the wolf stay with her and her pack. They had known Tundra’s old pack, knew what had happened to them, and it wasn’t safe for a wolf like him to follow them down south. Stiles hadn’t been happy about it, had only casually mentioned that it wasn’t up to her to demand anything of a wolf who had no humanity left in him… which hadn’t been taken lightly by the strong and powerful Alpha of the Cole-pack. So Stiles had relented and said his farewells to his long-time companion then gotten in the truck along with Derek.

They been driving less than three minutes when they heard howling behind them, Tundra running full throttle to catch up to the truck. They'd stopped, just long enough for the wolf to get in the back, then continued towards to the airport. And that had been the end of that argument. And if Tundra had been less than keen on letting either of them out of his sight after that stunt, then neither said anything about that either.

 

The first night back around people again, back in a civilisation Stiles had essentially left behind when he moved to his cabin out in the wilderness, had been rough for the Stilinski. He hadn’t been able to relax at all, had paced their motel room like a restless spirit, until Derek finally cracked under the tension and pressure and simply stripped them both down to their birthday suits and put them both under the spray of warm water in the shower. Holding the younger man close, nuzzling the vulnerable column of his throat, his hands sliding gently over pale dotted skin, all under the guarding eye of Tundra, had finally calmed Stiles down enough to allow himself to be carried to bed where he feel into a deep slumber. Even in his sleep he had reached for Derek for comfort and Derek had held him the entire night, more than happy to offer any peace Stiles might need.

 

For Stiles’ sake they had taken it easy on their way down towards California. He wasn’t used to the noise and light constantly assaulting his senses and for a while Derek wondered if it wasn’t actually worse for him than it was for a werewolf. So they had stuck to small back roads, winding their way south, stopping wherever they wanted and felt like it, just to let Stiles get used to being around so many people again. One night they had stopped right by the coast, going down to the beach and they had spent hours there, breathing in the calm night, not saying a word to each other yet communicating constantly with touches and looks. Stiles had told him how he was so used to keeping his magic to himself that he wasn’t sure how to release it fully anymore, not without dire consequences. Knowing there wasn’t much he could say or do to change the other’s mind, Derek had merely taken a hand in his, so strong and capable, and held it. They had sat there in silence, watching Tundra play in the shallows as the rising sun coloured the sky in oranges and pinks and light blues by the horizon. That morning was the first time they ever made love to each other. Stiles hadn’t been sure if he'd ever be ready for such intimacy again but he had come to Derek that morning, both of them tired yet calm, and both of them ready for more.

 

It had been imperfectly perfect. They'd nearly toppled off the bed, being too close to the edge, elbows had accidentally landed too hard, their teeth had clacked but they had learned how to get around it all, how to smooth out the rough edges. And when the lube dried out they simply used more and continued as slowly as before, albeit with a few good chuckles between them. If Stiles never wanted to do that again, Derek would still be happy and satisfied with what he had gotten. They had felt each other, and for once, Stiles had let _Derek_ feel _his_ energies too. The werewolf had only tasted a drop of what the Stilinski felt everyday always, but even that had been enough to overwhelm him. Derek had no idea _when_ he had shifted or when he had buried in as close as possible to the fragile human in the large bed, accompanied by Tundra who wanted in on the snuggling, and he had little cared. Stiles had run his fingers through the thick black fur again and again and they had all fallen asleep that way not long after. Surprisingly enough, it seemed as if being intimate had been _exactly_ what Stiles needed to finally gather up the courage to return to Beacon Hills and face his past… and his future.

And here they were now.

 

“How can I ever repay you for finding my son?” John asked softly, his voice still slightly shaky, as he watched his boy awkwardly return the rather enthusiastic hug Kira was bestowing upon his person. “We looked _everywhere_ , always kept an eye out for any sign of him but I guess we should’ve known it would be you who finally found him and no one else.” The Sheriff’s eyes still glittered from the crying. “You two always had a very special bond.”

“No need.” Derek offered a small smile. “I wanted to find him just as much for my own sake, if not more.”

“Perhaps so.” The older man nodded with a frail chuckle. Having patted the wolf on the shoulder, John returned to the group, leaving Derek to stand there and watch as Stiles was swamped by those who loved him the most, and had missed him for so long.

And suddenly he remembered the parting words from that day when he had been brought back to Stiles by a most unlikely creature up in the silent wilderness.

“Stiles,” he called out, effortlessly getting the brunet’s attention as he repeated the words easily. “What does that even mean?”

Stiles looked at him then, the warm whiskey brown eyes locking with hazel green and holding them, as if sizing him up. Then he snorted, shaking his head with a little smile playing on his lips.

“Guardians always come in pairs.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oooooh boy! This has taken _years_ for me to write… but its finished now! I hope you all enjoyed it and please do remember that comments are love and keep authors happy and fed! (Well, motivated more than fed but whatever! Same same!) I’m not above begging, please let me know what you think! ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
> 
> P.S. I’m not American and neither do I live anywhere near Alaska. English is also my third language so all typos and errors are obviously mine.


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